


The Little Things

by Madelief



Series: Mind Over Matter [1]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-11
Updated: 2016-09-11
Packaged: 2018-08-14 13:13:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8015410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madelief/pseuds/Madelief
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What are the little things that Kaidan does for the Commander? This is a drabble for Tumblr pre-Kaidan and Shep relationship in Mass Effect 1.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Little Things

Every time they enter orbit Shepard’s breathtaken. The kaleidoscope of colours unfolds before the helm of the Normandy, slowly rotating worlds partly in brilliant light and part shadow, the millions of stars behind providing a dazzling backdrop. How many lives survive there, be it human, asari, turian or microbe - Shepard is fascinated by every last organism and grain of sand in the thriving, vibrant universe they all share. There is no better sensation for her than the thrill of catching sight of another planet and playing a guessing game with herself as to what the vibrant hues might reveal. Would it be a gas giant, turbulent storms swirling in a seething mass of hydrogen? Would it be an icy moon, frosty and regal in splendid isolation at the edge of some rarely-frequented solar system?

No one would have guessed at such a simple pleasure coming from the Butcher of Torfan of all people, but she’s become a master of pretending not to care.

The crew know to not disturb her whenever they see their Commander wander into the port observation deck, exhausted and numb from the grind of warfare. This is her one moment of peace that she’s carved out for herself amongst the barrage of world-shaking orders, millions of lives hanging on her shoulders. Crises unfolding on a daily basis which for some absurd reason only the Normandy crew can solve.

She shakes her head to banish the negativity, allowing a sigh of pleasure as Canteloube and Dame Kiri send shivers down her spine. The hauntingly lovely music filters through the port observation deck, seamlessly bridging the divide between the 20th and the 22nd centuries.The clink of ice against a fine crystal tumblr, followed by the light splash and yeasty-oak smell of a little-known yet perfect whiskey, is all Shepard needs to make her circle of happiness complete.

_Well, almost._

It’s an in-crew secret that Joker always ensures the best possible orbit to guarantee Shepard a spectacular view. If she knew, she’d pretend to be furious, that such a vulnerability had been exposed, whilst weeping silently because someone could see through a mask of steel she’d been convinced was impenetrable..

She’d be even more mortified, mainly driven by an inexplicable and totally uncharacteristic shyness, if she discovered that Lieutenant Alenko was the root cause of her rare glow of contentment. He had been the one who’d challenged Joker over a poker game to show off his superior parking skills, just on the off-chance that the Commander might like to stare at something more than space junk jettisoned by years of humanity and aliens both at their most thoughtless, destructive best. Perhaps one day he will tell her, but as yet things are still too startlingly new for the both of them to do anything more but dance around the truth. Conversation with him that leaves her energised and alive. Living in a way she hasn’t done since....she can’t bear to think on that too much.  

Shepard isn’t a woman used to waiting for what she wants. In Kaidan Alenko’s case though, she has reserves of patience she didn’t know she possessed. Some things are not made to be rushed, after all, and he definitely falls into that category. No, this is one dance she’ll happily take her time over, savouring each teasing yet meaningful step of the unique courtship. 

Pensively, her eyes focus on a distant star, its shimmering brightness prompting Shepard to wonder they’d have another supernova on their hands. She will sit, the chill of crystal glass in one hand nursing her drink, the toe of one shiny black boot resting on the table as she allows herself a precious half an hour to forget the chaos and mayhem. For that blessed period of  respite she is simply Caya Shepard the woman, the human being, taking joy in the thrill of discovery. It didn’t matter that tomorrow she’d be bloody and bruised from yet another punishing battle, hoarse from shouting orders out across a the screech of rachni and nail-grating drone of the geth.

Shepard lives in the now, and right at that moment, it is enough. Enough for the ghosts of the past to disappear, enough to silence the screaming that never ends. 


End file.
